The Saga of Erik: The Beasts of Fire
by BloodXAngel
Summary: Erik Sinason is a normal boy living in St. Paul, Minnesota. At least, that's what he believes. When his school takes a trip to a museum, Erik's life begins to change. From that day onward, nothing is the same.
1. Introductions

My name is Erik Sinason, and though it may be hard to believe, everything I'm about to tell you is true.  
I live in Minnesota, in the city of St. Paul. My real name is Eiríkr, something my mom got out of an old book. I've lived with my mom my whole life, as I never knew my dad. The year I turned seventeen started out great. I was popular and made debate team captain. But the day my history class took a field trip would change my life forever.  
We went to Moorhead, to visit the Hjemkomst Center and see the ship housed there. Everything was going fine until my English teacher, Mr. Hudson, wanted to speak with me and took me to another room.  
'It's probably about my dyslexia', I thought. I've always had a hard time with reading and writing. But when he turned to face me, he seemed to get hairier and grow shorter and smaller.  
"Mr. Hudson, are you okay?" He had turned into a dog now, growling, fur covered, and four-legged. The canine lunged at my throat, trying to rip it out. Luckily, my friend Daggry and my history teacher, Mr. Foster, were walking by, and rushed into the room as I blocked the dog's ongoing attacks.  
Mr. Foster, who had been blind all his life, threw me a sword. I was surprised to find how light it was.  
The dog leapt, I ducked and slashed a hind leg as the creature landed behind me. It yelped in pain as its body fell to the ground.  
"Daggry, take Erik to Alexandria. His mother must know about this. I will take it from here." Daggry grabbed my arm, leading me out of the building and to her car.  
She drove to Alexandria, where we went to another museum, this time to meet with my mom. I found her in an exhibition room with her back to us, looking at this stone slab kept behind a glass wall. I walked up to her and saw her lips moving, but no sound came from them. Reaching to touch her shoulder, Daggry placed a finger to her lips, speaking herself instead.  
"Mrs. Sinason?" No response.  
"Maggie?" My mom turned around when she heard her name. She looked first at the sword in my hand, then slowly at me.  
"I knew this day would come." Mom turned to Daggry. "You know the way."  
We all got into Daggry's car and drove to Grand Portage State Park.  
There was a wooden doorframe close by, and Mom and Daggry got out and walked towards it. Curious, I decided to follow the women to where they were going. Upon walking through the frame, I saw a tall blonde talking to my mom. I approached them slowly, and the blonde turned at my coming.  
"You must be Eiríkr." She spoke with a slight Norwegian accent.  
"I prefer to go by Erik."  
"It is an honor to meet the son of Magnhild." I turned to my mom.  
"Didn't she ever tell you? Your mother is the valkyrie Magnhild. And that sword you hold," she nodded to the weapon, "is Ulfrbíta, a blade once used in combat by your father."  
"I'm sorry, there must be a mistake. My mom isn't a...whatever you called her. I don't even know my father, Mr. Foster just gave me this sword to protect myself from a dog that attacked me."  
"You didn't warn him about Garmr?"  
My mom began to speak.  
"Erik, I should have told you a long time ago. I am a valkyrie. And your father is Tyr."  
"Tyr? The one-handed Norse god?" My mom nodded.  
"Ok...but what is this place? And why am I here?"  
"Come with me." The blonde held out her hand, and I noticed a word tattooed on her right wrist in black ink: thrīr. I took hold of her hand, and she lead me deep into the woods, until we reached a cabin. The blonde knocked three times.  
"Come in." The blonde took hold of the brass handle and swung the door open with a long creak, reveling a large, shadow-covered room.  
"Uncle Hödr!" The blonde called into the dark space.  
"Yes Andren?" A tall man stepped from the shadows. He had gray eyes that looked as if a thin layer of glass covered them. He reminded me of Mr. Foster. The blonde, who must have been Andren, produced a book. She flipped the pages loudly.  
"You got it!" The girl tossed the book to the man, who set it on a table beside him.  
"You brought someone, Andren." He walked to me and gently placed his hands on my cheeks.  
"I've waited a long time for you, Eiríkr Tyrson. And here you are."  
"Who have you been waiting for?" The hands left my face as the man turned around to face the table he had stood by. There stood a horrifying object; the severed head of a man, who had long wavy dark brown hair and a short beard, and golden-amber eyes that seemed to stare into my very being.  
"Uncle Mimir." Andren picked up the head and placed it in her arms.  
"Hello Atli." The head blinked upon seeing me.  
"So, you're the one my niece's been jabbering about nonstop for months." Andren knocked Mimir's forehead.  
"Ow!" The head stuck his tongue out at the blonde. She turned to me, her deep blue eyes sparkling as if a fire were lit behind them.  
"Does he know where he is?"  
"I forgot to tell you where you are, by Odin! Ah well, better do it now." She cleared her throat.  
"Velkoma vith Leir Miðgarðr, Eiríkr Tyrson. Welcome to Camp Midgard, Erik Sinason."


	2. Reality Sets In

Andren left the cabin carrying Mimir's head, because it's normal to tromp around with the decapitated animated noggin of your relative. I followed her, not wanting to be left in a dark room with a blind man who looked too much like my history teacher. I was led to the center of a circle of eighteen small wooden houses. A boy, not more than nineteen, with flame-colored hair and eyes the light blue of a clear sky, came to Andren holding something.  
"What's that, Pip?"  
"Another tail." He spoke with a British accent. A cow's tail was wagged at her, one end caked with dry blood.  
"Is Dagny's, isn't it?" Mimir spoke.  
"No, Dagmar's. Peregrine, get one of Eir's sons and tell them to meet Dagny at the Infirmary." The boy ran to a nearby house to rely the message.  
"So you're in charge?" She faced me.  
"Actually, Hödr's in charge."  
"She's more second-in-command." Another knock on the forehead as she glared at Mimir. In the light of the moon, I saw a word tattooed in black ink on the base of her neck, on the right side: _nīu_. At the same time, she made Mimir vanish.  
"Who is Hödr?"  
"You know him as Mr. Foster, but he is the blind god of cold and darkness. He was tricked by Loki into killing his twin brother, Balder, god of light and joy, with a mistletoe arrow. Vali, god of revenge and a son of Odin, grew to adulthood in a day and killed Hödr. After a few hundred years, Hödr was brought back to life, pardoned for being wrongly accused and set up this camp; a place for demigods and immortals to live safely."  
"Why was I brought here?"  
"You are-" Other kids, younger and older, gathered around us, forming a circle. I noticed a small group of blonde girls among them.  
"As you can see, we have a new member. He was found by Daggry."  
Daggry left the blonde group of girls and stood to the right of Andren. A cow tail stuck out from under her dress, lazily swishing back and forth.  
"I believe he is the last of the Earthly Einherjar." Whispers went through the clusters of people.  
"Got any proof?" A voice near the back of a group spoke.  
"Let me see you." The voice's owner of stepped to the inner edge of the circle. A pale, night-haired boy spoke again.  
"What proof do you have that he's the last of the Fallen Warriors?" The blonde smiled.  
"I have seen him. And he is the only son of Tyr." Even more whispering.  
"Further more, Grimm, he has fought Garmr with his father's old sword." I looked at the weapon still clutched in my left hand.  
"Must I carry this sword all night? And why is Garmr so important?" I found myself speaking. Andren turned to me in response.  
"Let me see your sword." I handed it to her, and she took it by the blade and placed it in the palm of her left hand. She ran her right hand over the length of the blade, speaking softly as she did so. When she finished, the sword had turned into a twisted silver bracelet with a wolf head at each end. When I asked her how she did that, Andren just shrugged.  
"I'm a völva, a seeress and practitioner of seidr, a kind of magic. If you want Ulfrbíta to return to its previous appearance, all you must do is think the words _Gøra megin optar_." She put the bracelet on my left wrist.  
"'Become strength again'." The words were no louder than a whisper.  
"You asked about Garmr?" I nodded.  
"Garmr is a dog kept by Hel, goddess of death and keeper of the realm bearing her name. It is he who is fated to kill your father at Ragnarök, the end of the gods and every good thing." A loud blast rang through the campsite.  
Hödr came forward, a horn to his lips. He sounded the horn once more before dropping it and running to Andren. He took his niece's face in his hands.  
"The time has come. We must journey to Valafell." He removed his hands.  
"Don't you agree?"  
"I do not. Erik knows nothing of our ways, and although he was delivered to us on a Tuesday, I promised the next time we went up would be nine days from today, on Thursday." She turned to the audience.  
"Everyone to their houses!" They each ran to a house, all in different-sized bodies, except for Daggry's group of cow-tailed blondes, who disappeared deep into the forest.  
"Don't worry, she'll come back. The daughters of Dagr live in the woods, and every morning they sing for their father, who brings the morning light as he rides, slowly, across the sky, blazing a path for Sunna, the sun goddess, to follow."  
"Why do they have cow tails?"  
"They are huldras, daughters of Dagr and a light elf. When Freya saw their beauty, she cursed them to possess the tail of a cow. In any case, they're human. But enough about them," she slung an arm around my shoulder, "I want to talk about you, Erik."  
"You seem to know more about me than I know of myself."  
"That is expected. As I said, I am a völva, a prophetess. I practice seidr, the magic of völvas."  
"Where did you learn this?"  
"My grandfather and an aunt."  
"And who might they be?"  
"Come, and you shall know." Andren walked into a house and bade me inside. This house was on the right and stood closer to the top of the circle than the other cabins did.  
Upon my entry I was commanded to come to Andren's room; having to walk through the main room to get there.  
When I stepped into the room, Andren was no where to be found. There was a stone basin of water in one corner, when I tried to look at my reflection, the water was so dark that nothing could be seen but pure black.  
"Do not be afraid." I turned around and saw Andren placing a wooden pitcher on a table.  
"This is the _Skuggsjá af Ørlög_, the 'Mirror of Fate'."  
"What will I see?"  
"I do not know." I looked at the water, and in the blackness, gray wisps of inkiness appeared and shifted.  
"May the gods watch over you." She placed a hand on the back of my head, pushing me into the water.  
My vision went black.


	3. Answers

Everything came in a burst of color. I was in a field that had been split into three parts. By each part stood a woman, dressed in a black robe with a hood pulled to hide her face. Andren came from somewhere to my right and stood with crossed arms.  
"Choose quickly, son of Tyr."  
"Who are you?" She disappeared, leaving me to decide.  
What would my father do? That was a stupid question; I'd never met him in my life, how was I supposed to know which path he'd choose? Then the sun turned red, and the wind began to whip my hair. The paths vanished, and a blinding light appeared in the sky. I covered my eyes, fearing that the light would scar them. When the light died away, I slowly opened my eyes.  
A man stood in place of the present. His medium brown hair nearly touched his shoulders, and his eyes were the gray-blue of the sky before war. Light stubble lined his jaw, chin and upper lip. He wore a blue tunic with dark brown pants and boots, and a dark brown leather glove covered his right hand. He walked towards me, and as he did, I saw that a sword sat at his right hip. When he was close to me, I had the impression to kneel, and did so. I felt a weight on my shoulder, and looked up to see the man towering over me, a heavy hand causing my shoulder to sag.  
"You need not kneel." As he helped me to my feet, I noticed his voice was more pleasant than I expected it to be.  
"You can sit if you'd like." I sat on a rock, and he followed suit.  
"You're _örvendr_, left-handed, aren't you, Erik?" I was surprised this man knew my name, but I nevertheless answered.  
"Yeah, I'm a southpaw. Why'd you-" He seemed to read my thoughts.  
"I wasn't always a lefty." He held up his hand, removing the glove that covered it. His wrist ended where the hand should have been.  
"Fenrir did this to me. A son of Loki and the giantess Angrboda, he was a monstrous wolf who would come to destroy Asgard, home of the gods. But we knew this, and made a plan to stop him. We asked the dwarves to make a fetter to bind Fenrir. But he broke free, forcing the dwarves to make another. He broke that one as well, so a third fetter was made of the things we cannot see or hear; the sound of a cat landing, a woman's beard, roots of a mountain, bear sinews, the breath of a fish, and bird spittle. They called it Gleipnir, and Fenrir agreed to be bound by it on one condition; one of us had to place our hand in his mouth. None of the others were willing, so I stepped up and stuck my right hand in the jaws of the beast. Bit it clean off. But he was bound, and we were safe until the outset of Ragnarök, when he shall free himself once more." A silence followed.  
"Father?" For I felt he was my father.  
"Yes Erik?"  
"I've been thinking about Andren."  
"What about her?" He put the glove back on his hand, and I was baffled by how it kept its shape.  
"She seems to have a lot of power over the kids in the camp."  
"Her parents are very powerful. She gets it from them."  
"She said I was delivered on a Tuesday. Do you know what does that means?"  
"Excepting a few children, everyone arrived at the camp on a day named for their godly parent. My day is Tuesday, Týsdagr."  
"Andren also spoke of learning her magic from her grandfather and an aunt, and told me I would meet them here. But unless they're invisible, I don't think they came with you." My dad placed his thumb and forefinger in his mouth and whistled.  
A fox and a gyrfalcon came up a hill, following a man, who was accompanied by two ravens. The man was old and wore the clothes of a traveler, which included a floppy hat. He had white hair and a beard. He stood before us and spoke in a foreign language. When he finished, the gyrfalcon transfigured into a beautiful woman, her blonde hair spilling down her shoulders. She wore a cloak made of feathers over a dress, and a necklace of gold and amber.  
Meanwhile, the fox had transformed into an attractive young man whose skin was pale, and hair was black and eyes a dark green.  
"You're Erik Sinason, aren't you." The young man spoke.  
"Yeah, I'm Erik."  
"I believe introductions are in order. I'll go first-"  
"No, you shall go last." As the old man spoke, his ravens flew into the distance. My father pointed to the traveler.  
"Odin, the All-Father and chief of the gods. God of knowledge, curiosity, hung men, and travelers, he rules Asgard and selects half of the battle-fallen warriors to live in Valhalla as the Einherjar. He gave man the runes by which they used to write."  
"What happened to your eye?"  
"I gave it in exchange for a drink from Mimir's well, which gave me wisdom beyond the realms." My dad pointed to the woman.  
"Freya, goddess of beauty, love, fertility and battle. She is the twin sister of Freyr, both were Vanir until the Aesir-Vanir War, when they and their father joined us in exchange for Mimir and another. She is the leader of the Valkyries and receives the other half of those who die in battle and takes them to live in her hall." Now my eyes fell on the other man.  
"I see you have met your uncle Loki. He is the god of mischief and lies. His silver tongue has gotten him into trouble more than once."  
"Yes, but it has also kept me alive." I interrupted.  
"How did Andren learn her magic?"  
"I taught the All-Father, and Loki, his adopted son, learned from him." Freya explained. Loki took the opportunity to boast about his accomplishments.  
"Andren loved my magic from the start. Her parents and brothers and one of her sisters would leave for war, and I would be left to watch her. She always asked me to bring my books, so I did. She learned quickly, and invented a few spells of her own." My dad placed a hand on my shoulder.  
"Erik, wake up."  
"What do you-"  
"_Vaka upp_, Eiríkr!" His words rang in my ears as he disappeared, my aunt and uncle and grandfather doing the same as the world became black and white and my vision blurred.

A/N: This version of Loki is based on Marvel's Loki. All rights to the character go to Marvel.


	4. Hard New Life

I woke up in Andren's bed with a fever. I looked to my left and saw Andren sitting next to me, soaking a cloth in a bowl filled with water.  
"Andren, what-"  
"Shhh. Don't talk, you'll feel worse." She brushed the hair from my face and placed the cool cloth on my forehead.  
"What happened?"  
"You must have had quite a vision. You came out of there-" she gestured to the Mirror, "pretty beat. You've been like this since regaining consciousness."  
"My head is killing me. When did I get out of there?"  
"Sometime around eleven. I'll get you something to eat." She stood up and walked to the doorway. "Juliette, can you take over Erik while I run to the hall? He needs to eat so he can train. If you can't, I'll get Emily to."  
A beautiful girl of sixteen, with dark brown curly hair and chocolate eyes looked up from her book. The girl sitting to her right, who was doing something with her fingers and wool yarn, also looked at Andren. Juliette tapped Emily's shoulder, and she entered the other room, bringing her yarn and continuing to work until Andren returned carrying a tray laden with food. After helping me into a sitting position, she placed the tray on my lap.  
"What's all this?" The food looked like the kind of stuff you would be served at a medieval reenactment museum.  
"Barley porridge, berry pancakes, an apple and a cup of mead." I ate all of it.  
"What's she doing?" I asked with my mouth full, pointing to Emily, who said nothing but carried on with her work.  
"Nålebinding or knotless knitting. It's the process we use to make socks and mittens." She shooed the girl, and she and her friend left the house for the camp outside. I wore my black button-up shirt, silver bracelet, blue jeans and black Converse. The blonde led me out of her house and away from the ring of identical houses.  
"These are our houses, there are eighteen total. Each is dedicated to a particular god or goddess, and the one next to or across from it is, in most cases, used by that deity's spouse's children." She pointed to a dwelling at the top of the circle, "that belongs to the children of Odin. The one to the right is for his wife Frigg's offspring."  
"Who are your parents?"  
"You'll find out in eight days. But for now, follow me to the training center."  
'Center' was a misnomer, it was a field filled with kids using sharp weapons on hung pigs or one another. I thought '_Gøra_ _megin_ _optar_', and my bracelet became Ulfrbíta.  
"Show me what you know and we'll go from there." Andren sat in a high-backed chair on the sidelines. I charged at the pig in front of me, rising my sword and slashing as blade met shoulder. The action sliced the skin, exposing vein and muscle that Ulfrbíta easily severed. Blood splattered my face, staining my dark chocolate hair. I pulled the steel out of the boar and stood before Andren, breathing hard as a mist of sweat built upon my brow. I noticed that the lifeblood had touched Andren's cheek, where it stuck out like dirt on the first snowfall of winter.  
"You did very well, Erik. I expected you to go for the heart or the ribs, but for you to attack the shoulder like that...it was unexpected. This is your first time picking up a blade in such a situation..."  
With every word the blood traveled down her cheek, until it threatened to fall and stain her jeans.  
She stood and called for silence, then spoke in a sonorous voice loud enough to ring off the distant mountains.  
"Do you see the wound Erik has given this creature? It may be proof to you that he is a member of the Einherjar, but I am not so easily satisfied. If he can beat me in a duel, then will I believe in his great destiny. However, if he cannot best me, he shall be sacrificed in eight days. So says Atli!" Everyone cheered at the idea of seeing a fight.  
"When will it be held?" Grimm asked.  
"On _laugardagr_, Saturday." Andren sat and crossed her legs, her hands folded on her stomach.  
"You have three days to prepare." She told me. With that, everything went back to normal.  
I noticed Andren raise and stand opposite Daggry, right hands on left hips, round wooden shields on left arms. In one motion, they drew swords and ran at each other, then attacked using sidesteps and a block-and-swing method. Andren struck Daggry on the thigh, turning her sword as it plunged into the girl's leg, and rising the bloody weapon to slash at the huldra's ribs and shoulders. Daggry kept fighting, despite the blood that flowed like many rivers from her open wounds. Andren spun in a tight circle and cut Daggry, leaving a trail of blood on her cheek. They went back and forth until Daggry collapsed in a pool of blood. Andren raised her sanguine blade above her head and fell to her knees, her lips moving as she dipped her fingers in her enemy's life essence and smeared it on her face. Her blonde hair had become soaked with that ruddy substance that seemed to cover every inch of her body. She sheathed her sword, lifted her hands above her head, and spoke in a voice equal to that one used before.  
"Hail to my father! May he watch over and protect us." She lowered her head, pausing for a moment. When she lifted her head, tears traveled down her bloodstained face.  
"Hear me, Father. Am I worthy? If so, may I find your favor this day...see my heart, and not just my hand." With that, the völva got up and ran back to the cabins. I chased her until I heard splashing water, and saw Andren standing by a stone basin with her back to me, washing her face. The basin was in the center of camp. Once finished, she unsheathed her sword.  
"Isn't he beautiful? His name is Sverrir. It means wild, swinging, spinning. See this?" Andren displayed the decorative three part hilt. The top was gold and looked like an eagle's eyes and fat beak. The handle itself was made of dark wood carved with many thick, curved lines. The bottom, which joined the steel, was gold and resembled the butt of a hammer.  
"It resembles depictions of my father's weapon, only his has a short handle."  
"You don't care, do you?" She turned and stared at me.  
"You killed Daggry, and you don't have a care in Midgard."  
"I do care. She's immortal, like me, all huldras are. I just wanted to show you how we really fight." I knew it would take time to forgive her, but I still stood next to her.  
"Tell me more about your father's weapon. I'm curious now."  
"It's short handle was an intentional manufacturing error caused by Loki."  
She told me the tale of the creation of her father's weapon, and of her own. Both were made by Sindri and Brokkr, dwarf brothers who created many other gifts for the gods.  
When she finished, she walked back to the Field with me, and offered to help me train for the upcoming duel.  
"You would do that?"  
"Of course. I may be ruthless, but I'm not heartless." I narrowed my eyes.  
"Why should I trust you?"  
"Because I am the goddess of magic and prophecy and I have seen your fate. You can't bet luck alone will help you beat a seasoned shieldmaiden."  
For over an hour, Andren taught me how to hold my sword depending on the situation and my opponent, how to attack, how to block, and what to do when someone's ambidextrous. Then she tested my skills in a mock-duel, and, seeing that I had improved, walked with me back to camp.  
By now it was dark, and we had walked into the woods, away from the Field and cabins. I told her my story along the way; how I had never known my father and how my mother always protected me from things I could never see. Andren was silent for a moment before a tear slipped from her eye.  
"What's wrong?" I pulled her into a tight hug.  
"I know your pain." Her arms wrapped around my neck as tears cascaded down her perfect cheeks. I kissed them away, up to her eyes. Her stormy blue orbs met my dark brown ones as our lips touched. She tasted of apples and cinnamon and something I couldn't describe all wrapped up in one. Andren finally broke the kiss as thunder boomed and a flash of lightning seemed to separate us.  
"Oh no." Rain poured as we ran into a huge building for shelter.  
"You two missed dinner." Grimm sat on a long bench, his plate on a long table. We stood blinking at him.  
"Everyone else is in their cabins, except the huldras, they ran to the borderline woods as soon as they could." He took a long drink from his cup. Andren let go of my hand, which she had been holding to guide me through the trees, and walked to the end of the building; where two long steps were covered in pelts and a magnificent throne stood.  
As soon as she sat on the throne, everything outside became silent. The doors opened, and Daggry came in, soaking wet and looking miserable. She approached the throne, leaving a trail of wet footprints. Falling to her knees before Andren, Daggry produced a hilt and a shattered sword, pieces falling all around her.  
"Give them to me." Daggry gathered and handed the pieces to Andren. After looking them over, Andren spoke again.  
"This is Laufgrœnn, your Ulfberht, correct?" Daggry nodded.  
"Yes, that's Leafgreen."  
"I can fix it, but it won't bend like it did before." She ran her left hand down the pieces, which clicked back together. The sword was given back to Daggry, who thanked the goddess before going back out into the night.


	5. Dancing with Death

A/N: Warning: This chapter contains violence and drinking.

Before I knew it, Saturday had come, and the duel with it. Andren outlined a square in the dirt with chalk, where four waist-high poles were placed at the corners, and a blanket on the ground inside them. A rope was placed around the poles.  
When the duel approached, I noticed I had nothing to wear. I mentioned this to Andren, who told me to look in my cabin. I entered my cabin, did as Andren instructed, and found a set of black chain mail laying on my bed. I was in the middle of changing into this mail when Andren walked in.  
"The duel will begin short-" She turned around quickly.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."  
"It's okay. I actually need your help." She turned back around, the blush still on her cheeks. I had removed my shoes, socks and shirt, but couldn't figure out how the armor was supposed to be worn. After pulling a white wool shirt over my head, Andren helped me with the padding and then the mail itself. I put on black wool pants and black boots found at the foot of the bed. By the time I was finished, Andren had disappeared, so I went to the dueling square in-between the cabins and the front gate. There I found Andren, dressed in her armor and leaning on one of the poles.  
"Why must I fight you? I have no quarrel with you."  
"Án maurr hafa neinn deild með nakkvarr bōt. An ant has no quarrel with a boot. And no, I don't plan to step on you. I only plan on winning."  
And with that, she ducked under the rope and entered the square. I followed. Grimm leaned on the rope, facing us.  
"Rules are simple. First one to bleed or step off the blanket loses. You each get three shields; after that, you're on your own. Taunts are allowed, cursing is not. Begin."  
Andren unsheathed Sverrir and picked up a shield simultaneously. I tried to do the same and failed miserably.  
"Koma fram dragi. Come on slowpoke." I understood what she said without needing a translation.  
"Deild með ek, ok yð vili falla. Quarrel with me, and you will be slain." I swung at her, but she blocked before Ulfrbíta could touch her shoulder.  
She lunged at my thigh, but I lowered my shield in time to deflect her. We went back and forth, each trying to gain some upper ground when none was to be had. To lighten the mood, Grimm entered the ring during our break and taunted us, which ended in Andren chasing him out.  
"You're refereeing, Jakobson, remember that." Our fight went on until I finally managed to cut Andren's cheek. She stumbled back, tracing the thin line of blood that trailed slowly down her jaw.  
"Erik surely is one of the Einherjar! He has proven himself worthy this day. In five days we shall go up to Valafell."  
For four days Andren taught me their customs and those of their ancestors. I read lots of books from the camp's library, and practiced my language skills with Andren.  
"Ek nauðsyn flesk. I need bacon."  
"That ðæt makes a sound like 'that' in English."  
I also ate more. While Andren ate only two meals a day-one in the morning and one at night-I packed my three meals with fish, grains, berries, root vegetables and cabbage. I noticed that Andren ate the same things I did, her drink of choice being the only thing that differed. She drank copious amounts of mead, and I had seen it being drunk by the others the most, followed occasionally by ale. It was rare that was wine poured, although the children of Odin loved the grape-derived intoxicant above all others. I had tried each of these at some point in my learning, and found that I liked mead best; it had a hard but sweet taste that the ale and wine lacked. Ale was bitter; not sweet at all, and I heard the wine was imported from another demigod camp somewhere in California, after which I swore never to drink it again.

A/N: I do not own the 'ant' line, Marvel does. I simply translated it into Old Norse. All rights to the original line go to Marvel.


End file.
